


Shhh! It’s a Secret!

by Sevfan



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-15
Updated: 2014-08-15
Packaged: 2018-02-13 05:12:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2138271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sevfan/pseuds/Sevfan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco has a little confession to make about himself</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shhh! It’s a Secret!

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by J. K. Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books and Warner Brothers, Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
> 
> My gratitude goes out to VCCV, who betaed this for me, even though her computer was on its last legs. Now that’s a true friend! *mwah*
> 
> The Hex Files February 2006 Challenge: In honour of Valentine’s Day, write a 750 word fic using the words “Hearts and flowers” as the first three words of the story.

**Shhh! It’s a Secret!**

Hearts and flowers – that’s what I got for Valentine’s Day. And you know what? I loved it! Shhh, you mustn’t repeat that. If you do, I shall deny it vehemently. After all, it wouldn’t do for a Malfoy to like such things. I imagine that my father must be spinning in his grave right about now, to hear me make such an admission. If he weren’t already dead, the information would surely have killed him.

But it’s the truth. I, Draco Malfoy, am a closet romantic. And it’s all Potter’s fault. That side of me would have stayed happily hidden, even from myself, if it had not been for him. Bloody Gryffindor sentimentality! 

Potter and I had been snarking at one another in the tea room of the Ministry for a couple of years. Neither one of us ever missed an opportunity to get in a well-placed jibe or toss off a scathing remark, or better yet, two. As time went on, however, the daily taunts and insults changed into something else – thinly veiled flirting. Needless to say, I was quite shocked to realise that the saviour of the wizarding world was coming on to me. What was even more surprising was that _I liked it_! Before long, we were doing a dance around one another, waiting to see who would make the first move. It was Potter. Damnable Gryffindor courage!

Potter invited me to dine with him one evening after work. He was a perfect gentleman, holding the door for me, removing my cloak, pulling out my chair…he even tucked a gardenia in my lapel. I waited for the surprise, the moment when he would reveal it was all a joke, but it never came. He had been sincere in his attention. As we stood at the door to my flat, he inquired if he might kiss me goodnight. Imagine that! He _asked for permission_. The kiss was quick and sweet, over and done with in a flash. Potter thanked me and then Apparated home. As I lay in my bed that night, I mused how different my first date with Harry (I could hardly call him Potter anymore) had been from all the other men I had dated. I would have been shagging madly by then. Instead, I was thinking about a very chaste kiss and wishing desperately for another.

From that night on, I was wooed by Harry. He always brought me flowers or some little gift that he thought I might like. We dined by candlelight in romantic little bistros where the food was delicious and the company even more so. We danced, went to the Muggle theatre, took daytrips to the seaside where Harry bought me candyfloss and ice cream. We walked in the country, holding hands as we talked. His treatment of me never wavered, it was always the same – gentle, generous, respectful, something I had never experienced before. I grew to love the romance that Harry had brought into my life. And I grew to love him as well. 

It was two weeks before Harry kissed me properly, and another month before we finally made love. It was the most glorious moment of my life. The look in Harry’s eyes as he undressed me, caressed me, kissed me took my breath away. I felt desired and adored, needed, truly _loved_ for the first time in my life. You will undoubtedly laugh when I tell you that our joining that night was perfect, but it was. We moved as practiced lovers, without the awkwardness or inexperience that often accompanies a ‘first time’. We gave and received pleasure equally, not stopping until we were both deliciously sated. I think back to that moment when Harry first slipped deep inside me and marvel at how _right_ it felt, how I knew it was where I _belonged_. Harry professed his undying love and commitment to me that night. Wonderful Gryffindor heart! 

Five years later and Harry is still as romantic as when he was courting me. I came home this Valentine’s Day to find the house filled with flowers of every colour– yellow tulips in the foyer, red camellias in the dining room, a posy of blue violets in the loo. In the lounge I came upon an enormous heart-shaped box of chocolates, and my favourite flowers, glorious gardenias. Oh, and red and white roses in our room. With petals on the bed. 

Do I love romance? Hell yes, and nobody does it better than my Harry.

**Author's Note:**

> The meanings of the flowers Harry selected can be found here:  
> http://www.victorianbazaar.com/meanings.html


End file.
